


It's Not Blackmail

by kaclydid



Series: Drabble Games #1 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaclydid/pseuds/kaclydid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader somehow gets Crowley to cooperate and meet with Sam to figure out a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Blackmail

**Author's Note:**

> #3 of Drabble games requests from tumblr.

You smiled as you almost skipped a few feet ahead of the King of Hell. His eternal glare pointed straight at your back as you continued to walk. It had taken a lot of persuading to get him to agree, but you knew Crowley couldn’t say no to you forever, even if he was the King. 

Well, you had hoped this would all work out okay. It wasn’t everyday Crowley was up for lending a helping hand. But it was everyday he reprimanded his demons for aiding the plaid wearing brothers and their winged pet. 

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Crowley’s gravely grumble came from behind you as the two of you reached the park.

“Oh, shut it,” you smiled. You hadn’t planned on it going this way. Dean and Sam needed help with some kind of spell, and being practiced in the arts before becoming a demon, you knew you’d be able to help. 

Crowley was there because you knew he also had some knowledge in the arts, and as much as he bitched and moaned when ‘Not Moose’ or ‘Moose’ popped onto the screen of his cell phone, he liked the Winchester brothers. 

And for some reason they trusted him, too. If they didn’t the both of you would be dead or trapped. 

Crowley wanted Rowena stopped just as much as the brothers did, and you, having been by Crowley’s side longer than the Winchesters had been around, had wanted to help. A simple locator spell would have sufficed for a normal person (Sam was right on that point) but Rowena wasn’t normal, as Dean mentioned once too many times in your last meeting with the brothers. 

Crowley didn’t really know about that, though, and as you walked up to the gazebo where you were to meet the brothers, you bit your lip, hoping your king wouldn’t find out.

“{Y/N}?” Sam asked as he stepped up. 

You turned on your heel, crossing your arms over your chest. “Where’s Dean?”

“Not coming,” he answered, eyeing Crowley. “You agree to this?” 

“What do you think?” Crowley spat back with a sarcastic edge. “Blackmail is a very effective way of getting someone to cooperate.”

“I’m not blackmailing you,” you smiled, gaining a small smirk and an eye roll in return. 

“You want to find Rowena, go right ahead,” Crowley started.

“Where’s the spell or book or object ... _ whatever _ you promised?” Sam asked, stepping forward slightly as he looked back to you. 

“Right there,” you smirked, motioning to Crowley. 

An irritated groan left his mouth as he stood there, hands in his trouser pockets. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he mumbled once more. 

“Crowley?” Sam asked, eyes wide. 

“Yes. Crowley,” you nodded. 

As you nodded, Crowley’s gaze landed on you, flicked back to Moose, and then back to you. “You already know where she is, don’t you? And you’re keeping it from me? She’s my bloody mother!” he argued, stepping forward.

Sam sighed, shoulders slumping and then straightening as he stood his ground. “Yes,” he answered. “Dean’s got …”

“I’ll call you with details,” Crowley interrupted as he turned on his heel. “Looks like we’re a team now. Team ‘Family Issues’,” he chuckled. 

You stood for a moment, glancing up to Sam. A part of you deep down imagined the fight you’d have with Crowley on the return, and another part of you was proud at what you had accomplished. You nodded swiftly to Sam before kicking into a small jog to catch up with Crowley as he walked out of the park. 

“I’m sorry?” you tried as he stopped, turning to you. 

“Again,” he started, “I cannot believe you talked me into this.” He took a deep breath and slowly a smirk lit his face, “You’ve done well. You remind me of myself.”

“Is that a good compliment, or are you mad at me?” you tried. 

“You cunning little spy,” he smirked. “Good work.”

Your brows knitted together in confusion, looking over your shoulder to where Sam was walking back to the car parked off to the side, and then back to Crowley. “Wait, I’m confused. You are going to help? And you’re not mad?”

He only walked on, the sound of gravel crunching under his foot. “Good. You’re learning,” Crowley added, and the next moment, he had vanished. 

“What the hell?” you asked yourself before following suit and disappearing from the path. 


End file.
